Our Home
by McRaider
Summary: A POV story shows the point of view from both Burt and Kurt. Having watched the scene in Theatricality about seven times now I really feel like there was more to it that we didn't see, especially after all Burt and Kurt went through in previous episodes.


Our Home  
McRaider  
Summary: A POV story shows the point of view from both Burt and Kurt. Having watched the scene in Theatricality about seven times now I really feel like there was more to it that we didn't see, especially after all Burt and Kurt went through in previous episodes.  
Author's Note: Pretty much love this relationship and I'm now on a mission to build this fanfic part of the world.

"It's just a room Finn! We can redecorate it if you want to!" I screamed, feeling my eyes welling up with unwanted tears. I'd gone rapidly from wanting him as a lover to wanting to make peace with him so that my father was happy. Dad wanted a son, obviously I wasn't doing a good enough job, but Finn could make him happy, which meant finding some equal ground for the two of us.

"Good, then the first thing that needs to go is that faggy lamp! And then we need to get rid of this FAGGY couch blanket-"

"HEY! What did you call him," The voice made both of us freeze, realizing my dad had just entered the room, I tightened my arms further around my chest, feeling my eyes burn further. I'd ruined it. This was all my fault.

"I…I didn't call him anything I was just talkin' about the blan-"

"When you use that word your talkin' about him," My dad moved closer, I could feel the anger radiating off of him. It scared me, I hadn't seen him like this in a long time. So angry. Certainly never directed at anyone I could recall.

"Relax dad, I didn't take it that way," I tried to calm him down. Not wanting him to say or do something he'd regret.

"Yeah, that's cause your sixteen and still try to see the best in people. You live a few years and you start to see the hate in people's hearts. Even the best." He started questioning him about the n-word, a word I'd never heard uttered in this house or anywhere around me. He demanded to know if Finn called Becky retard. "But you think it's okay to come into my house and use the word Faggy," his voice was breaking slightly. I felt exhausted and scared that dad was so upset. What had I done?

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know what you meant!" My father yelled, causing me to jump again, "You think I didn't use that word when I was your age." And there it was. My father had been one of those people, who threw people in dumpsters and called them fags. Then my father said the words that stunned me, "You can't stay here Finn." I'd broken him, I'd done this. It was my fault. I'd set my father up to be happy and then it was my fault I'd broken it all. I had done nothing but complain and feel left out. "I love your mom, and this may cost me her. But my family comes first, and I can't have that kind of poison in my house." Suddenly my dad turned to me, and I saw a look in his eyes that I was unbelievably familiar with-love. "This is our home," he offered to me quietly, as if to say I was always and would always be safe here. "He is my son," His words now directed at Finn and I felt the weight of those words. He chose me. I may not understand why he chose me. I couldn't really be the one he always wanted. But he'd chosen me. "Out in the world you can do what you want. But not under my roof."

Finn made a quick exit, and I looked at my dad, realizing he was now looking directly at me. I expected to see anger towards me, disappointment over what he'd just given up. All my father ever wanted was the perfect son. "The place looks great," He offered to me softly as he walked by he gently squeezed my shoulder, as if reaching out to tell me I was his.

I sank to one of the day beds, my mind whirling so fast I felt dizzy. What had I just done? I heard soft voices upstairs within a few moments and to my surprise I then heard Carole speaking. Unable to stop myself I slowly made my way up towards the kitchen.

"You called him a what!"

"I didn't-"

Carole slammed a spatula down on the countertop, glaring directly at her son. "I have never been so disappointed in you in all my life. Finnley Hudson, I didn't raise you to be that narrow-minded and rude and cruel. Are you one of those children who dumps that poor boy into the dumpster every morning."

"What?" my father blanched at that thought. I cringed, I hadn't told dad about that.

"How did you know about that?" Finn whispered.

She looked at him, "You don't think I see the bruises on him, the ones he tries desperately to conceal. He's struggling Finn, he wants to make this work for us and all you can do is call him a fag." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Finn, but for now I agree with Burt. You can't stay here. Clean up your attitude and your mouth and then we'll talk. The keys to our house are over by the front door. I think its best that you get out now before I say something I regret."

It was Finn's turn to blanch slightly at those words; he nodded, not meeting either one's eyes as he headed out the front door. I sat down on the top stair, unable to contain it anymore…I cried.

"My boy…their throwing him in a dumpster. Like he's trash?" My father's words sounded completely broken.

Carole sighed, "I'm not sure sweetheart, but don't tell me you haven't noticed the bruises."

"I was hoping he was clumsy," my dad whispered. "God I'm a terrible father."

"No! You're not. He's a private boy, Burt. He hides his pain from everyone. Even me. He doesn't have to be that way." She sighed and smiled sadly, "I'm going to go make sure Finn is okay. I'll give him some rules he has to meet first, and if he does that will you let him back in?"

There was silence for a long moment, "As long as my son doesn't get hurt, that's all I care about. I…Carole I've known about him since he was three and for that reason alone I've gone to great lengths to make sure he was aware this was a safe place for him. I don't want that to change."

"And it won't, I promise. If he can't clean up his act then he won't stay here. I understand that. I'm not going to let your boy get hurt…I love him too," she smiled sadly. "He's a boy to be very proud of."

"I know."

I heard the front door close and listened for a few moments. My father sighed deeply. I could hear him heading into the living room and sitting down. Deciding it was best to face the music, I came out of my private room and moved towards the living room. I leaned against the doorway the same way I did when I was a little boy and nervous he'd yell at me. "Dad." I whispered.

Green eyes met mine and there it was again, a look of love that I could barely comprehend. "Thanks…" I whispered, unsure what else to say.

"For what?" He almost seemed unsure of what I was talking about.

Gulping slightly I looked at him nervously, "For choosing me," I murmured.

"Oh Kurt," He whispered.

I looked at my son at those words, "Oh Kurt," I whispered. I waved him over, unsure what else to say. Back when he was a little boy, much smaller than he is now I'd hold him anytime he was upset. I was silently praying he'd let me do the same now despite his being much older. "Come here," I gently gripped his wrist and pulling him down so he was sitting on one of my knees. It was probably odd for a grown man to show this kind of affection for young adult son, but Kurt…he wasn't like most boys. Sometimes he needed that extra touch and most of the time I was more than happy to give it to him, because sometimes I needed to be reminded it was good to love so unconditionally. I wrapped both my arms around him.

He was struggling with what had just happened. Sighing I leaned my head against his shoulder. "Kid," I chuckled softly as I pulled him closer so his head would rest on my shoulder. He leaned into it, taking a deep breath. I pointed to our mantle. "You see that picture up there of that little tiny baby?" I swallowed at the memory of that day. The day I'd been blessed with such a perfect little boy, I waited until I felt Kurt nod. He'd seen that picture hundreds of times, he knew it was him. "That's the day I became a father and everything else went away. Kurt, I was a lot of stuff when I was your age…Finn's age. And yes I was a lot like him in ways you don't even want to know about. But your mom," I smiled sadly, "She was a lot like Carole, made me see things that were bad about who I was. But the thing that changed me the most was the day I held that little baby in my arms for the first time. From that moment I vowed to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," he whimpered.

I nodded, "Neither do I, but that's our jobs, to protect one another from things we don't see. Son," I pull away to meet his eyes. "Finn is a good boy and he's going to get past this prejudice, but don't you ever…ever think I'd choose him over you. You're my little boy, no matter what age. You are my son and I will choose you over anything this world throws at me and more. Maybe I don't say it often enough, but I love you, and if one good thing came out of your mother's passing, it was that it brought us closer together."

"I love you," He murmured as he hugged me.

I wrapped both my arms around the young man and held him tightly, "I love you too kiddo," I whispered pressing my lips to his temple. We sat there in silence and I realized it was my fault he thought I'd choose someone over me. I loved this boy in everything that he was, gay or not I would love him just the same. And maybe his being gay made me love him a little more. Its true Finn was a little more masculine. But he probably wouldn't ever accept a hug the way Kurt just went for it. Kurt was my son and that made him more special than anyone. "Do…do they still throw kids into the dumpsters?"

I felt a slight nod and my heart sank. "You?" Another nod made me feel terrible, "I'm sorry son. I really am."

"You never did it to me."

No, I thought, but I probably would've if I'd been his age. I held him tight for another moment before looking at him. "How about we go get some burgers?"

"Salad," He whispered.

"Yeah, keep dreamin' Kurt," I joked as he got up. "Go wash your face up, I know how…disturbed you get with pimples."

He chuckled but nodded and headed downstairs. I stood and watched the basement door for a long moment and thought for a moment. Maybe I wasn't a terrible father, because after all he'd been through, my kid still wanted to hang with his dad. That was good enough for me. For now.


End file.
